The Arrangement
by a-moomoomoo
Summary: When it gets out that Draco is betrothed to Pansy, Hermione is devastated. However, Draco's determined to have her regardless of what his mother or Witch Weekly had to say about it. AU
1. Chapter 1

**The Arrangement**

**Chapter 1**

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><p>Hermione climbed into her bed in nothing but her underwear. She felt heavy, at a loss, empty. Try as she might, there was just no word to properly convey whatever emotion she was feeling. She reached over to her pillow to pick up the green sweater and brought it to her face. <em>It smells like him. <em>She slipped it on and lay down. It was silent. She closed her eyes in hopes of sleeping, but found that sleep eluded her. She shifted into a different position and tried once more to no avail. She turned over to stare at the photograph on her desk. It was a muggle photograph and did not move, but she didn't need it to for the memory of that day was as vivid as if it were just yesterday. She shut her eyes, not wanting to remember.

She heard a creak as the door to her chamber was opened and a shuffle of clothing. The door shut. She made no move to see who it was as only one other person had the password to the Head Girl's bedroom. Her heart thudded loudly in her chest. She focused on the steady, rhythmic beating and steeled herself for what to come. Her visitor took a tentative step towards her four-poster before pausing hesitantly. She did not move.

"Hermione?" Draco Malfoy whispered. When she made no acknowledgement that he even said a word, he climbed into her bed. He wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close, breathing in her usual earthy scent. "I'm sorry. I thought…I thought that you'd be more understanding of the situation. My family is as traditional as a pureblood family can get." When Hermione made no reply, he pushed on. "Of course I will refuse to marry her, but it won't be as simple as sending my mother an owl. Ever since father died and the Dark Lord fell, it's been tough for her. She's alone, Mine. It's been…"

At the sound of the pet-name he called her, Hermione closed her eyes and remembered the first time he called her that. In her mind's eye, she was her swotty 6th year self, sitting in the library with _Hogwarts, A History_ when Draco Malfoy of all people takes the seat in front of her.

"_We need to talk, Granger." _

_ Hermione took her time finishing the page she was on before closing the volume and turning her attention to the angry blonde glaring holes into her head. "How could I be of service, Ferret?"_

_ His lips curled into a snarl. "You bloody know what you and your git friends did, Mudblood, and I demand you return my broomstick!" He had returned to his dorm from potions when he saw his broom missing from where he usually kept it at the foot of his bed. After interrogating every slimy Slytherin he could get his hands on and threatening to Avada several other students, he finally got word that The Golden Trio had talked a nervous first year into stealing his precious Nimbus. Potter and his pet Weasel were hiding like cowards in their common room where Draco couldn't get to them, but not Miss Mudblood Princess Granger. "Where is my fucking brookstick?" He demanded when she made no reply. _

_ Hermione pressed a finger thoughtfully to her lips. "Hm, I wonder, Malfoy, if you quite like great heights. I know if I were you, I'd scale the highest building to retrieve my precious broomstick. But you know that's just me." Flashing him her most brilliant smile, she picked up her books and strode out of the library. _

_ "You've got to be fucking kidding me!" Draco moaned into his hands as the meaning of her words sunk in. True enough, his broomstick was happily levitating above the astronomy tower. _

_ The next day, Draco hunted her down and pulled her into a nearby broom closet. "I know it was you who kept my broomstick up there, Mudblood. Potter and Weasley don't have the mental capacity."_

_ Hermione raised her eyebrows and hugged her books tighter to her chest. "And what if it were me, Ferret? What are you going to do, call your dead daddy back from the grave to hex me?" _

_ "How dare you speak of my father that way, you filthy mudblood! Who do you think you are?" _

_ "How dare you call me a mudblood , you stinking ferret!"_

_ "Disgusting slag!"_

_ "Snot nosed, bitching little git!"_

_ "Go back to your muggle hovel!"_

_ The sound her palm made against Draco's cheek reverberated throughout the dark little room. They stared each other down for what seemed like years before Draco's lips met hers. She returned his kiss hungrily, wrapping her arms around his neck, letting her books crash to the floor. "You're mine," he growled against her mouth. "Mine."_

_ Hermione pulled away and gave him her best Malfoy smirk. "You still won't get your broomstick back unless you climb those turrets, Ferret. This'll teach you to make gooey eyes at that Greengrass bird in Potions!" At that, she turned away from him and sauntered away, leaving a frustrated Draco to trail after her._

"Please, please say something." The sound of Draco's voice in her ear brought her back to the present. Hesitantly, she turned over so she was facing him. His eyes searched hers hungrily for any sign of affection or forgiveness. "Love?"

Hermione sighed and let herself be pulled closer. "I…I don't even know how I feel about this. I mean, you and…and _Pansy_ are a pureblood match made in heaven. Who am I to interfere?"

"Who are you to—do you not recall who you are to me? You have every right to interfere! Pansy may want this, but you know I don't. You know I'll do everything in my power to talk my mother into accepting you, to accepting us." Draco was pleading now.

Hermione closed her eyes and pulled her hands out of his. "I need to be alone right now. Please."

Draco felt his heart give a lurch. "Can I stay? I won't say a word, just please let me stay."

"No, Malfoy. Not tonight." Hermione had already turned her back to him. Draco knew at the use of her surname that it wouldn't be wise to push her any further.

"Alright then." Draco acquiesced, albeit reluctantly. He climbed out of her bed and leaned over to stroke her hair softly. "I love you, Mine."

Hermione waited until the door shut to relax and release the breath she had been holding.


	2. Chapter 2

**The Arrangement**

**Chapter 2**

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><p>Hermione knew there was no chance in hell Narcissa Malfoy would consent to her one and only son, Malfoy scion and all, marrying a Muggle-born. She had no doubt that Draco would do his best and fight tooth and nail for the right to stay with her, but in the end he would choose his mother and their fortune. She's known all along that if it came down to it, his choice would be clear. Not that he wouldn't be sorry-because he would be-but his apologies wouldn't be enough to soothe the hurt she'd feel at being spurned for money.<p>

Hermione swallowed back the tears threatening to spill over. It's been two days of her lying in bed, wallowing in her own filth and misery, and she was tired. She swatted at her eyes angrily. There'd be no more crying, not for her. Crying wouldn't change that Draco and Pansy were betrothed, it wouldn't mend her broken heart, and it wouldn't make her happy or more capable of moving on. Hermione sat up warily, deciding it was time to actually get some food in, and eyed the picture on her desk of her and Draco. It was taken during their first Christmas together, during sixth year. Of course at that point their relationship had still been new, and a complete secret, so they celebrated after hours in the Room of Requirement.

_"Oh Draco, it's lovely! You really shouldn't have, you know. It's so unnecessary!" Hermione was ecstatic. Draco smirked, knowing full well that his girlfriend wouldn't have been as pleased with anything less (not to mention his own Malfoy pride would smart if he hadn't given his girlfriend the absolute best, especially since she was a Mudblood. Had to show her the finer things in life, and all that). The journal he had presented her with had a genuine red dragon hide cover and the pages pure edged in pure gold, her name engraved on the front in gold curlicues beneath the Gryffindor crest. It was bewitched to only display its contents to her touch, but should he or anyone else open it, it would read to be Hogwarts: A History. The gold and red diamond encrusted quill was a tad too much, even Draco had to admit, but then again, what was the point of being a Malfoy if not for the boundless wealth it provided? Hell, she'd probably feel so grateful she'd finally let him touch her breasts. _

_ Hermione smiled sadly at him. "I'm afraid that I didn't get you anything as wonderful as this, but I hope you'll like it." Shyly, she handed Draco a small red and gold box ("Really, Granger, you saw how pro-Gryffindor I got with my gift, yet you can't do the same for me? I'm wounded, honest"). He opened it excitedly and shoved aside the tissue paper to reveal…an ancient looking silver pocket watch with emeralds along the casing and, upon opening, along the face. To say Draco was disappointed was an understatement. He had gone out of his way, scouring the lands, throwing Galleons blindly about in a heroic and noble effort to procure The Perfect Christmas Gift for his lady, and all he gets in return is an apology and an old time piece? He fought the urge to scoff. He received a pocket watch from his mother earlier that day and it was loads better than the piece of crap he now held in his hand. It was cleaner, too._

_ His face must have betrayed him, because Hermione rushed to explain the sentiment behind giving him some rusty watch. "I know it looks quite rubbish, and you probably have ten thousand watches much better than this one, but it was my great-grand father's. An heirloom, if you will." At this, Draco looked up at her and tightened his grip on the watch. It suddenly felt heavier. Hermione pressed on. "I—my dad gave it to me this summer; it's supposed to be given to my future hus—well, I thought of you and it's sort of fitting that it would go to you, all things considering. I had it cleaned and I nearly had it engraved, but then I thought tha—" Draco kissed her. _

_ When they pulled apart, Hermione's face was flushed and she refused to make eye contact. Draco smirked. He cupped her chin and brought her face closer to press a soft, chaste kiss to her lips. "I love it," He said, almost surprised at how true it was. Considering the watch once more, he decided that he did indeed love it. In fact, he loved it more than the Goblin made one he received from his mother. He considered it again. He felt manly, holding a Granger Family Heirloom, and he was sure that, as her family was a Muggle one, it was the best and most expensive thing they had to their name. _

_ He smiled at his girlfriend, deciding he loved her a little extra. He was glad he did, otherwise Hermione would never have gotten away with snapping a picture of them with her silly Muggle camera._

Draco pulled out his pocket watch, his thoughts wandering as he eyed the emeralds. Hermione had yelled through her door that she'd come down to dinner, but it was nearly over and there was still no sign of her. Draco sighed. It was the fifth meal she'd missed since she found out he and Parkinson were arranged to be married before the year end.

It wasn't as if he didn't understand why she was upset; Merlin help us if the situation were reversed. Draco considered the idea silently as he used his spoon to toy with his soup. He had finally decided on a massive killing spree should his precious Granger be betrothed to another when his very own betrothed (however unwanted) sat across from him. "Draco," She snapped, tearing him from his thoughts. "We need to talk about this and you need to stop avoiding me!"

Draco massaged his forehead with both hands, hoping it properly conveyed how wary he was of speaking with her. Next to him, Blaise Zabini and Daphne Greengrass made a show of shushing those around them so they could hear well. "Pansy, right now's not a good time." He muttered into his hands.

Pansy crossed her arms and furrowed her eyebrows, a stance Draco recognized. It meant there would be a fight and he was going to lose. "Now you listen here, Malfoy, and you listen good. This marriage is going to happen whether you like it or not. I know you have your reservations about the whole ordeal, and I'm not happy with it either, but you know it's for the good of both our families, not to mention it satisfies the stipulations of your inheritance!" The whole bloody table was watching now with rapt attention, eager to see how Draco would react. The Parkinson-Malfoy engagement was no secret, as Parkinson's mother had leaked every excruciating detail to Witch Weekly the moment it was announced, but it didn't mean that Draco was any more comfortable with the whole world witnessing his degradation at the hands of teenage girls.

First Hermione hearing about his "betrothed" in the Great Hall two days ago and now Pansy was getting her punches in as well.

"I couldn't disagree more heartily, Pans. I couldn't care less about that bloody inheritance you and Mother keep throwing at my cage, and you know it. Now sod off before I decide I'm not above hexing you." Draco knew using such language towards Pansy Parkinson would have Great and Terrible Repercussions later on (especially were his mother to find out), but he gave a damn less than he thought he would. He was acutely aware of his House's silence, and knew the other Houses were starting to take notice. He stood to make his leave.

But then she walked into the Great Hall looking like the specter of herself and all thought of leaving the room flew out of his head. He felt rooted to the spot and all but his neck and head were frozen. Not having seen her in what felt like ages, he basked in her presence, greedily feasting his eyes on her. Her hair was duller and much less…pronounced than he was used to, and her wrinkled school uniform (mussed and sans robes, he noted) hung limply on her already slim frame than was usual. Granger was no beauty queen, but even the least observant Slytherin first year could see that she looked worse for wear.

She made a beeline for the Gryffindor table, where the Weasel and The Boy Who Wouldn't Die Despite Everyone's Best Efforts (Draco figured it really should have been more of a team effort, but of course while enjoying his short reign, the Dark Lord had insisted that Potter was "his". Nasty innuendo there, but Draco wouldn't begrudge a dead…thing his fancies. Regardless, the Dark Lord had perished at the hands of said Scar-Head. That, Draco sagely decided, was the price one paid for not being a team player. Though he supposed that it wasn't very Slytherin to want to be a team player, but when it came to getting rid of Potty, he had no qualms) had perked up noticeably and were smiling at her like the Fabulous Chums they were.

Draco noted she was determinedly _not _looking anywhere near the Slytherin table. He briefly registered that Pansy was saying something to him, her puggish nostrils flaring out in her anger at being ignored, but it didn't really bother him all that much. He unrooted himself from where he had stood frozen and, with an overconfident swagger in his step, headed over to his enemy table to speak to his lady. Not the hideous puggy one with the limp hair and knobbly knees his mother tossed at him.

Everyone in the Great Hall stopped speaking simultaneously to watch the Head Boy humiliate himself yet again. A whispered, "A galleon says Granger hexes his bits off" was heard from the end of the Gryffindor table. Suddenly, Draco wasn't so confident anymore.

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><p><strong>AN: **Thank you, thank you, thank you to every one who reviewed, added this story to their alerts or favorites, or who gave it a chance by reading it!


	3. Chapter 3

**The Arrangement**

**Chapter 3**

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><p>Draco felt as if someone had taken their wand and, with careful aim, hit him with a good <em>confundus<em> charm. He sat in the common room he shared with Hermione, staring in what he hoped was a morose manner, thinking of the day's events. Approaching Granger with an incensed Parkinson shouting after him about their upcoming nuptials was a grave mistake. For starters, he'd nearly had his bits hexed off (not by Granger, surprisingly, but by the She-Weasel), then Hermione upended her goblet of pumpkin juice over his painfully coifed hair. As he stood there dripping into his new robe, mouth opening and closing dumbly, Hermione turned back to her food, eating calmly as if her boyfriend weren't standing behind her soaking wet and sticky.

He saw her in their classes, of course, but each time he had come within five feet of her, he'd somehow end up drenched in pumpkin juice. He had no idea what spell she was using (after all, she had to be breaking several magical laws conjuring juice of all things), but after the third _scourgify _cast on his person, he decided that he rather enjoyed being dry and would approach her before bed.

Draco checked his pocket watch for the fifth time that minute. She was an hour late. Since the end of the war, weird things had stopped happening to the Golden Trio and Hermione had quickly become a creature of habit. Awake by 7 in the morning, exactly 16 minutes to make herself presentable (she didn't do much for that, despite all of Draco's best efforts and his recent anniversary gift of the finest and most expensive of witch beauty products that Wizarding France had to offer. Not to mention he had hired the finest hair dresser from France that would Floo to Hogwarts should Hermione ever desire), and within ten minutes she'd be down in the Great Hall, eating her favorite oatmeal and sipping a goblet of milk. He wondered where she could be and, after realizing that for the first time since they began dating that he didn't know her whereabouts, he jumped up and began to pace.

"Pace…pace…pace…" Draco muttered to himself. The common room was silent save for the crackling of the fireplace. He wondered if he should play music. He abruptly stopped pacing and a look of elation came to his face when he had, in his humble opinion, the best idea he's ever had; a challenging feat indeed since all of his ideas were rather spectacular. He'd make the common room all romantic for when Hermione returns so she would be in love with him again! Then, after re-securing his lady's love and affection, he could finally focus on getting out of his accursed arranged marriage. And considering Millicent had mentioned coyly in passing the other day that according to _Witch Weekly, _his and Pansy's mothers had already picked out the table cloths and napkins, he had very little time left.

With a skilled flick of his wand, he got rid of the sofa and various chairs and tables to make way for a heart shaped table and two chairs. Flick, and the lights dimmed and there were floating candles about the room. Flick, and soft music came from the walls. Another flick, and rose petals were scattered everywhere. Draco summoned a house elf with orders to bring up a romantic meal to go with his romantic room. "Basically anything that'll put her in a romantic mood. And make it fast! Who knows when she'll get back?" With a nod, the house elf vanished.

When the elf returned with a fantastic looking pasta and warm bread, Draco restlessly arranged and rearranged the table settings. When he tired of that, he conjured some doves to fly around them, but they shat on the food and he got rid of them with an angry wave. He summoned the elf again, replaced the meal, and then sat patiently at the table awaiting his Hermione.

When ten minutes had passed and she had yet to return, he came to the conclusion that his robes weren't romantic enough. He shot up to his chambers and hurriedly changed robes to the new burgundy ones he purchased on his recent trip to France with his mother. He rushed back to his spot at the table and perched himself in what he hope was a sexy manner on his chair. And he waited. And waited.

And waited.

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><p>"Thanks for letting me stay the night here, Gin." Hermione said as she fluffed the pillow on the bed she had conjured. It went against everything she normally stood for, avoiding Malfoy and staying with the 6th year girls, but Hermione just didn't have the patience to face him just yet. In the beginning, it seemed as if her sadness would never end, but then it was replaced with hurt and anger that he didn't even so much as give her a warning. The mere sight of him brought back all thoughts of his latest betrayal. So there she was, setting up her small bed, ignoring the whispers the dimmer of the 6th year girls were doing across the room. Never mind that she could hear them.<p>

Ginny gave up trying to transfigure the spare blanket into something much thicker and gave it to Hermione to take care of. "No problem, I understand why you'd want to get away from that git for a while. Imagine, he was engaged all this time!" Ron, Ginny, and Harry hadn't taken the news of Malfoy's engagement well. In fact, Hermione was sure she had taken the news in stride compared to the three Gryffindors. They hexed Malfoy whenever the opportunity rose and had desecrated his precious broomstick. Of course Malfoy felt he deserved the treatment and never once complained nor retaliated. It was pathetic enough to soften Hermione's heart. Ginny rubbed Hermione's back. "Well at least Ron's finally got a chance!"

Hermione stiffened, but took care not to make her displeasure apparent. The other girls would spread it like wildfire. "Sure, Gin." She busied herself with fixing her blanket. "Anyhow, I'm quite exhausted—spent my entire evening fixing my Potions essay, you know! I'll be going to bed now. I suggest the rest of you follow. Goodnight!" Hermione climbed into her bed and tossed a smile at Ginny.

The rest of the 6th year girls let out groans of displeasure, but nonetheless climbed into their respective beds. They did not like having the Head Girl in their room and if they had anything to do with it, they'd get her out.

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><p>Hermione woke up an hour earlier than was her usual so she could run to her own room for a change of clothes. Knowing that Draco would still be asleep, she didn't hesitate to step through the portrait hole leading to their common room. When he saw Draco asleep in a plate of pasta with soft music playing overhead, candles still burning in the air, her heart gave a little flip. There was no question that he had prepared something romantic for her and had waited all night for her return. She felt a pang of guilt at sleeping elsewhere.<p>

Squashing her guilt, Hermione resisted the urge to fix his hair and maybe wash him a little. Heart heavy, she walked right past him and slipped into her room without making a single sound.

Draco woke up just as her door closed behind her and blearily looked about. He noted that half of his face was coated with pasta sauce, but instead of throwing a fit like he'd normally do in similar circumstances, he felt the urge to cry. Draco was not above crying, although his father used to punish him heavily as a child for showing such weakness. However, Draco's father was not there and so he let slip a few tears so as to let out his emotions but still retain his manliness.

Hermione didn't come home to him. He stood up, intending to go to his bed to think about how heartbroken he was and how badly he missed his lady, when said lady's door opened and she stepped out in all of her frizzy glory. They both froze.

Draco felt his heart wrench at the sight of her. Then he felt embarrassed. While it was perfectly fine to have a small cry when one was alone, it was not perfectly fine to have said cry when the reason for one's cry was present and one was coated in tomato paste. The thought of what he must look like to her made him want to be sick somewhere. Preferably in a Hermione-free zone where she wouldn't play witness to his most terrible and embarrassing moments.

It must have been painfully obvious that he was crying, because Hermione's eyes softened and she took a small step towards him. "Draco," she whispered, reaching out a hand to touch him. Draco stepped closer, eager for her touch, when she remembered who she was and who he was and dropped her hand. Her eyes going cold once more, she swept past him and out the portrait hole without another word.

Draco emptied his stomach onto the floor where she had stood mere moments ago. '_Death,'_ Draco wryly thought. '_would be a release next to this travesty.'_

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><p><strong>My Fair and Dearest Mother,<strong>

** It is I, your cherished only son, Draco Lucius Malfoy. How it does bring me joy, Madame, to be writing to one as pulchritudinous as you! Do you recall a balmy sunny day, four summers ago, when you and I would take turns about the estate garden as you oversaw the house elves slave over the grounds? Such memories of our perfect relationship are what keep me strong, Madame. Each moment I spend before my mirror (which is often, I assure you), brings me so much delight as my beautiful face bears an uncanny resemblance to your own celestial features. **

** It has been some time since I last wrote you. I assure you, it is not done out of neglect! I humbly ask your pardon as I have been otherwise occupied with my studies (and returning the pride and dignity the Noble and Most Ancient House of Malfoy lost with Father's errors)and altogether being the accomplished young man you so ardently raised. **

** Aside from my well-wishes and love, this letter also begs of you a small favor. As the doting mother of the Malfoy scion, it is no secret that you've done all in your power to ensure your precious son has all that makes him happy. Do you recall that instance, when I was naught but six years of age and, despite all of father's protests, you purchased for me my own dragon? The Antipodean Opaleye I so lovingly dubbed Scorpius still breathes fire in my heart all these years. It's a pity indeed that father saw fit to execute my precious Scorpius after my enrollment in Hogwarts. **

** However, this letter is not an appeal for a new dragon (although, my birthday is quickly approaching and a boy would like nothing better than a rare Catalonian Fireball). Rather, this letter is written in regards to your son's upcoming nuptials. It is a most loathsome situation indeed, as you yourself have stated on numerous occasions that you wish for nothing more than your son's happiness. It is this ill-fated union between me and a Miss Pansy Parkinson that would do just the opposite. I cannot bring myself to look at her unsightly face, much less love it. And if I cannot love the face of the girl, how am I to **_**make**_** love to it? How would we produce the Malfoy heir? It would not do, Madame, it simply would not do.**

** In light of the Wizarding world's recent Pro-Muggle stance, I believe I have the solution to our quandary: Hermione Granger. Not only is she quite the celebrated Mudblood, but she took part in the defeat of the Dark Lord! Such an advantageous marriage to one as cherished by house wives and school children across the globe will prove to be the greatest political move anyone of Malfoy descent has ever made. **

** I implore you, Madame, to make the right decision in regards to this rather sensitive topic. I know you are as wise as you are beautiful and will no doubt see the sense in my suggestion. **

**Avec mes remerciements, j****e vous prie d'agréer, Madame, l'****expression**** de ma considération distinguee,**

**Draco Lucius Malfoy**

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><p><em>My Dearest, Most Cherished Son,<em>

_ No._

_Croyez, à l'assurance de ma considération distinguee,_

_Narcissa Malfoy née Black _

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><p>Draco held the letter that contained his mother's fourth lackluster reply and ripped it up. It had been a week since Hermione had ceased speaking to him, and he was getting desperate. The other day, prior to posting his letter to his mother, he had hired the most adorable first years he could find to sing to Hermione their song during their Transfiguration class.<p>

Of course she had been delighted until she realized who had sent them. Then McGonagall came to her senses and promptly kicked them out and assigned Draco detention. How she knew it was all his doing was beyond him. Though he suspected it was because he replaced some of the lyrics of the song with, "Draco is a most handsome and beautiful man/ Harry Potter looks like raisin bran".

Throwing himself on the red and gold sofa nearest the fireplace, he screamed and thrashed his legs until he passed out in exhaustion.

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><p>Pansy Parkinson was waiting outside of the Potions room. The door burst open and a steady stream of students came out, talking animatedly. '<em>Granger must still be inside,' <em>Pansy thought. True enough, Hermione was the very last to leave, her nose stuck in a book. Pansy cleared her throat.

Hermione walked right past her.

Pansy closed her dropped jaw and chased after the girl. If you had told her a year ago that she'd resort to begging the other girl, she would have hexed you into oblivion. Unfortunately, Pansy had no choice. Her family had no dowry whatsoever to entice many of the other prominent Pureblood families to marry her and with her less than satisfactory looks, their family had no choice but to fall back on the marriage contract made when she and Draco had been nothing more than fetuses. Marrying Draco, despite his dreadful attitude towards her and his infatuation with the queen of Mudblood land, was her last chance at happiness.

Pansy grabbed Hermione's arm and pulled her into a nearby broom closet.

"Ow!" The other girl cried. Pansy rolled her eyes. For a vanquisher of the illustrious Dark Lord, Hermione Granger sure could be whiny. Hermione, upon seeing who had grabbed her, frowned. "What do you want?" She asked pointedly.

"Look," Pansy began, equally displeased with their close proximity. "I hate you and everything you stand for. You wish you were me and I know you covet my hair. Thankfully, I am a firm believer that you and I can come to a sort of agreement. I spent all of yesterday coming up with this, so at least give it a little bit of mulling over before rejecting it completely."

Hermione crossed her arms. "I don't care what your proposal entails, Parkinson. You can have him. I don't care!" The last bit came out more shrilly than Hermione had intended. Thankfully, Pansy hadn't noticed.

"Could you just listen to me, you sodding cow? I'm trying to help us both!"

Hermione decided to ignore the insult. "Fine, you have five minutes. I'm listening."

Pansy smiled sweetly. "Good!" She pulled out a mirror and checked her makeup. "I don't want Malfoy the boy, Granger. I want Malfoy the fortune. And it's common knowledge that you in all your self-righteousness would refuse the Malfoy fortune because of some sappy Muggle fantasy of true love and all sorts of other rubbish, but would gladly take the Malfoy boy." Hermione raised her eyes at this. Pansy continued. "You pretty much have two options: one, you play mistress or two, you break his heart."

If Hermione's eyebrows could go any higher, they would have right then and there. "Excuse me?"

Pansy rolled her eyes. "Untwist your kickers, will you? If the first, I would be the wife in fortune and name, but nothing more. I'll have my own chambers and you can sleep in Draco's. Of course you could produce the Malfoy heir, but as far as the rest of the world is concerned, he's _my_ child. I would, of course, have the fortune at my disposal, which is really all I want. I don't care about furthering the bloody Malfoy line or keeping it pure. With this, you and I could both get what we want."

Hermione wondered if anyone would notice Pansy suddenly going missing. There was absolutely no way she would be Malfoy's mistress. She didn't care if Pansy never was actually going to touch Draco. The idea was so repulsive to the brunette witch that she suddenly felt the need to retch. She swallowed the bile in her throat and scowled at the Slytherin girl. "I would rather die than live that kind of life!"

Pansy shrugged. "Suit yourself. The only other option you have is, of course, to break up with Draco. He's convinced he can still get you to forgive him, and he won't stop pestering his mother and my mother with letters about breaking the arrangement so he could marry you." Pansy noted the Head Girl's sudden blush. Was she pleased? Pansy felt sick. "Anyway, if you just shut him down and tell him you don't love him anymore, he'll quietly and obediently marry me. Which is, really, what you want right?"

Hermione felt the tears coming again. When she spoke, there was a catch in her throat. The prospect of telling Draco she no longer loved him was about as appealing as eating a mermaid. "Fine," She spat at Pansy. "I'll tell him I don't lo-love him anymore!" She burst into tears and rushed out of the broom closet.

Pansy, surprised at the other girl's tears, climbed out after her. The hallway was empty. The echo of Hermione's crying could still be heard. Pansy smiled. Things were finally going her way.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Thank you to everyone that added this story to their favorites and their alerts! The last chapter didn't receive any reviews, but I feel honored that you guys gave this story a chance regardless. See you next chapter!**


	4. Chapter 4

**The Arrangement**

**Chapter 4**

* * *

><p>"That's not exactly asking nicely, Ferret." Harry Potter said, exasperated. Malfoy was being even more of a git than usual. Harry paused, wondering if it were even possible. He regarded the sneering blonde boy in front of him and decided it was. Ever since Hermione and Draco had started to openly date, Malfoy alternated between being extra gitty towards the two boys to playing their best bud to get favors. Today, it seemed, he couldn't decide between the two and was bouncing back and forth.<p>

Malfoy pouted petulantly. Harry felt compelled to do a bit of vomiting. "Come on! You two really like it when Hermione's happy, right? Well with my Spectacular Plan of Action, I guarantee her unending happiness for the next fifteen years. And then upon the waning of her happiness at the end of aforementioned fifteen years, I will proceed to grow my beautiful, luscious, pureblooded hair so her love (and of course the happiness that accompanies such love) will be renewed. After that—"

"Look, Malfoy, as well thought out your…" Ron shuddered. "…future with her may be, we don't want to get in the middle of this. We value our lives, you see."

Malfoy's mouth dropped. Harry gave him a look that said he should feel sorry, but he didn't really feel sorry. "If you wanted to keep her happy, Malfoy, you shouldn't have become engaged to Pansy. Dug yourself in quite a hole there."

"But Weasel, Potty! I need your help! She's going around being friends with everyone but me! She was even seen talking to Parkinson of all people!" Malfoy began to pace. Harry and Ron watched his progress. It was a nice spring day, Harry supposed as a leaf trapped in his collar tickled his neck. Malfoy had grabbed the two boys on their way back from Quidditch practice and, using a quick _i__ncarcerous, _bound them to a nearby tree. Harry hoped the tree wasn't the malicious type. It would be just like Malfoy to bind them to a tree that slowly and silently murders those that come into contact with it.

While Harry wouldn't put it past the Slytherin boy to be a git, he doubted that the boy was in the proper state of mind for anything really bad. For one, his hair wasn't styled, his clothes were wrinkled, his shirt untucked, his green and silver tie shoved unceremoniously into his shirt pocket, his shoes didn't match, and he was wearing neither blazer nor vest. Draco Malfoy was a mess. Harry couldn't help but feel sorry for the idiot. Not that he would help him or approved of the situation or anything like that. Nevertheless, Harry knew Malfoy was gone off his rocker mad about Hermione and secretly offered his sympathy.

Harry briefly wondered how Ron was feeling, having Hermione's boyfriend (ex? Harry didn't know; Hermione never talked about it) ask them for help on getting her back. While Ron did spend some months thinking he was heartbroken and fighting with Hermione and threatening to _Avada _her boyfriend, he had gotten over it (the fact that he had gotten under a new girl helped tremendously, but they don't tell Hermione about that chapter in Ron's Months of Mourning). Still, Harry mused silently, he was never really _okay _with the idea of the two.

"Let us go already! I'm starved." Ron whined. "We're not going to help you and holding us here against our will is…it's really wrong!" Harry smirked, Ron having unknowingly answered his thoughts.

Malfoy stopped pacing and glared at them both. "I'm not letting you two go until you agree to help! You don't even need to do much; just lure her to our room where I shall be waiting, trap her, and then I woo the fuck out of her!"

Harry made a disgusted face. "Er, we don't need to hear about your…wooing skills, thank you."

"I think I'm going to be sick." True enough, Ron looked paler than usual.

Malfoy grunted and threw his arms up in frustration. "PLEASE!" Harry and Ron stared at him, wide eyed. Draco Malfoy had said _please._ Malfoy pressed on. "Please." Harry felt wholly uncomfortable with the softness in Malfoy's voice. He feared the Slytherin would start crying. True enough, the boy's nose was quickly turning red. Fuck. He wondered how long it would take for him to chew his arms off.

"Um…." Ron made a move to scratch his head, but was prevented from doing so by his bindings. He settled for looking awkwardly at his feet. "She's not angry, you know."

Malfoy paused. "What was that?"

Ron looked as if he would rather vomit a slug than keep speaking, but he pressed on. Harry wondered which curse Hermione would use on them once she found out they spoke to Malfoy. He then wondered if it was worth it. He elbowed Ron to prompt him. "She's hurt, is all. And she hates that you've made her feel all...sad and everything, so she's kind of using you as an emotional punching bag. You noticed that she's really stubborn so it's not going to be easy or anything…" Ron trailed off, ears matching his hair.

"Oh." Malfoy looked thoughtful. "So you'll help?"

Harry exchanged a look with his best friend, who shook his head in response. He looked back at Malfoy. "No. That was all the help we're willing to give you."

Malfoy's eyes suddenly looked shinier than usual. "I'm desecrating my family's reputation by asking this of you. I'm-" His voice caught. "I'm begging." As if just realizing what he said, he blanched. "I'm begging a dirt-poor blood-traitor and the saint of all muggle lovers and half-breeds. What has my life come to?" Malfoy ran a hand through his hair and muttered a _finite incantantum_ their way.

"Malfoy," Harry began.

Malfoy shook his head and walked back towards the castle. Harry and Ron exchanged incredulous looks.

"Blimey, the git actually loves her." Ron said, awed.

* * *

><p>Sara Cavanaugh, Gryffindor sixth year, was crouched behind a suit of armor in a corridor near the Great Hall. Across the hall, crouched behind another suit of armor (why did Hogwarts even have so many?) was her best friend forever, Kaelan Schmidt. They gave each other the thumbs up and pulled out their wands. The corridor was empty save for them, and they fought back giggles as they awaited their prey.<p>

She consulted the schedule scribbled on scrap parchment for the fifth time that minute. According to her sources (Colin Creevey), Hermione should have been headed in their direction five minutes ago. Sara and Kaelan exchanged panicked expressions. Either she was late or Colin was wrong.

She felt bad for Kaelan, crouching there all scared and nervous. Sara had to admit it was kind of scary, the idea of kidnapping the Head Girl and locking her in a romantic room of romance with the Head Boy for the night, but it had to be done. Hermione had been sleeping in their dorm the past week and the sixth year girls (except for Ginny, weirdo extraordinaire, of course) were fed up! They were forced to sleep early, keep their voices down, and each time one of them receives new WonderWitch products, they get confiscated! Zenny Williams had her pimple vanisher taken away, much to the chagrin of the other girls, and now sported a giant boil on her nose and an assortment of acne on her cheeks. It was really unfortunate. This is why Sara and Kaelan had taken it upon themselves to save the day! Once the Head Girl falls back in love with the Head Boy, she'll finally leave them in peace.

Sara gave a little squeal at the excitement bubbling in her chest.

* * *

><p><strong>To Miss Pansy Parkinson,<strong>

** The Wizarding World is in an uproar at the thought of the Great and Illustrious and Utterly Handsome Draco Malfoy marrying the likes of you. It would be in your best interests to discreetly call off your engagement and marry someone else. We, the Wizarding World, suggest Gregory Goyle. **

**Best wishes,**

**Anonymous**

** P.S. To make an attempt at discerning my identity would be futile. So don't try it.**

o0o0o

**My Deerest Pansy,**

** Is me, Greg. I M vary hert-broken to heer dat yoo R merrying Malfoy. I kno dat he is so much batter looking den me, but I can luv yoo. I hav luved yoo sense we met all dos yeers ago. Malfoy, wit all of his grate hair and compleckshun, dos not luv yoo. If yoo wood merry me, I will giv yoo yor own gardin.**

** Luv forever,**

**Yor Greggie-poo**

o0o0o

_Draco Malfoy—_

_ Never have the women in my family married for love. It's never happened before and it's not happening now. Stop being a child and accept that we're to be wed. Granger can be your mistress or what have you. I don't care. _

_- Mrs. Pansy Malfoy_

_P.S. Our honeymoon will be in France. You don't need to be there._

* * *

><p>Draco was brooding as he headed towards the Great Hall. Following his failed attempt at garnering sympathy from Saint Potter and the Weasel, he had written Pansy Parkinson letters in hopes of persuading her against their engagement. She had refused. Furious, he stormed to the Slytherin common room and left her a note on her bed offering her money. Of course he'd have to part with a few million in gold, but what was fortune without his Hermione?<p>

He stopped in his tracks at the thought. "Merlin's bloomers, I've gone mental." He whispered to himself. He looked at his hands in shock, as if waiting to see if they'd change shape or color. Perhaps he was sick; running a small fever and needed some bed rest. Draco dug into his robes for his wand to summon a thermometer. "Where the bloody hell is my wa—"

"ATTACK!" And that was the last thing he heard before all went black.

* * *

><p>AN: Hey all! I'm so sorry for the late late late update. I've recently started university and I've been so caught up in the newness of it all that I've neglected to update. No worries, there's not much left of this story. (The next chapter is the end!) See you then! :)


	5. Chapter 5

**The Arrangement**

**Chapter 5**

* * *

><p>It was dark. Draco Malfoy was royally pissed at the predicament he found himself in. Why the bloody hell was it so dark? And silent. And eerie. His anger was quickly replaced by fear and apprehension when it dawned on him that he was in a dark, unfamiliar place. Panic rose in his chest. What if he had been kidnapped by rogue Death Eaters bent on continuing where the late Voldemort left off? What if they torture him and he loses his mind like Longbottom's parents? Or, even worse, what if they ruin his face?<p>

The thought of his face being tampered with sent him over the edge and he began to scream for help.

"SHUT UP OR YOU'RE GOING TO GET US KILLED!" A very familiar, grating voice snapped from somewhere in front of him. Relief flooded his entire body before his brain caught up and he realized that she was in even greater danger than he.

"Mine? What are you doing here? Did they get you too? Are you alright? Are you hurt? Are there any visible scars from anything they've done to you?" Draco's mind conjured an image of her with a long, jagged scar down her face and he shuddered in revulsion. He wondered briefly if he could find it in him to love her despite any disfigurations she now had.

Before he could decide, she interrupted his thoughts. "No, you bloody idiot, I'm fine!" Draco suddenly felt a cold hand grab the front of his robes and he was pulled forward and thrown to the floor. "What have you gotten us into!" Hermione Granger demanded, grabbing his robes again and shaking him fiercely. Draco flinched, misjudging how close she was. While he was overcome with the desire to hold her, he doubted she felt the same way. Self-preservation overpowered any urgings he felt below the belt, after all.

"I don't know!" He managed to get out. "I don't know!"

Convinced that he was telling the truth, Hermione relaxed her grip on his clothing and sat back on her heels. "Do you have your wand?" Draco pulled it out, gave her a small prod with it, and she sighed in relief. She had lost her wand upon her own kidnapping and had been trapped in the dark for quite a while. She grabbed his wand and cast a _lumos_. It didn't work. "What the bloody—"

"ATTENTION HEAD GIRL AND BOY." A voice called coming from seemingly everywhere and nowhere at the same time. Draco and Hermione froze. The voice was obviously heavily disguised. "YOU ARE SAFE. YOU ARE ON HOGWARTS PROPERTY IN A ROOM OF SECRECY. DO NOT BE AFRAID." Hermione's hand found Draco's and she gripped it tightly. The lights flashed on in an instant, momentarily blinding the couple.

"What the bloody..?" Draco breathed, taking in the room they were in. To say it was over-decorated would be an understatement; the room looked as if someone took all of the Valentine's Day decorations in the world and shoved them into the room. Red and pink cupids blissfully flew above their heads, hearts rained down from pink clouds, and unmanned instruments began to play what was supposed to be romantic music.

Hermione rose to her feet, enraged. "Who are you and what do you think you're doing? If we are not let out in the next five minutes, I will not only dock points from EVERY house in Hogwarts, but I will secure you and anyone else involved detention with Professor Snape for the rest of the school year!" Draco leaned away from his lady, slightly turned on by the furious flare of her nostrils and how her bushy hair got even bushier in her anger. They sat in silence for a long time as their captors gave her threats some thought.

"NO." The ominous voice said finally. Draco groaned and sat back down on the floor, batting away a pink cupid with a crush on him. Bloody winged babies. "YOU ARE TO REMAIN TRAPPED HERE UNTIL YOU TWO MAKE UP!" This was immediately followed by giggling.

Draco, batting the cupid away yet again, began to think. In order to escape their hot pink fate, they'd have to make up. And make up sounded a lot like make _out_. Grinning ear to ear, he sent a wink at his witch, earning him a look of revulsion. He forgot she didn't particularly take to the winking.

"If that's how you'd like it, fine. Fifty points from Gryffindor, Sytherin, Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw! If I'm not let out in ten minutes, I will dock another fifty from each house." She called out. The room immediately echoed with indistinct whispering. Draco watched as Hermione walked to the other side of the room and sat down at a table for some tea, his wand in her hand. Draco smiled; he was infinitely glad to finally have the chance to speak with her. He'd win his lady back, marriage contract to Parkinson be damned!

"Let me pour your tea for you, Love." Draco purred, reaching out to take the teapot. Unfortunately, she beat him to it and, with a wave of his wand, poured her tea for herself. Another wave and her sugar dropped in and a red heart-shaped spoon was stirring in her little cup. Hermione smiled, satisfied, and took a sip, paying no attention to the crestfallen blond sitting across from her. He was, of course, frustrated. He made many allowances for Hermione in their relationship: he let her get away with nicking his wand whenever she pleased, he let her see him before he showered and did his hair, he gamely shared his favorite candies with her, and he even allowed her to put him in a bloody Gryffindor scarf during the Ravenclaw-Gryffindor match! But Draco Malfoy was never one to be ignored.

He eyed his witch as she silently sipped her tea, his frustration mounting. Finally, he couldn't take it anymore and, with a roar most unlike him, he shoved the damned table to the side and stood before her, panting heavily. "PAY ATTENTION TO ME!" He demanded childishly.

Hermione, being the infuriating witch that she was, finished her tea calmly. She stood and, having nowhere else to put the cup, placed it gently on her chair and headed towards the plush heart-shaped loveseat. Draco stiffened when she brushed past him.

He had no idea how long he had been standing where she had left him, but before he knew it, tears were streaming down his cheeks as if he were some dainty Hufflepuff princess. He couldn't help it; he sniffled. _Fuck._ Draco braved a peek at his woman, only to whip his head back around when they made eye contact. His crying was the last thing he wanted her to see. Spotting a door through a balloon arch across the room, he sprinted towards it. His damned tears refused to stop. He was mere inches from the door knob when he felt himself being levitated off the ground. _No no no no! _He resisted with no luck whatsoever. Draco succumbed to his tears and mentally berated himself for becoming a pathetic bitch Hufflepuff princess over Hermione bleeding Granger.

* * *

><p>"We really shouldn't be watching this!" Kaelan Schmidt whispered. Sara Cavanaugh gave a bark of laughter at how nervous her best friend was. They were lounged in a small room separate from the Romantic Room of Romance they had trapped the Head Girl and Boy. Sara was glad to have properly cast the spell that would allow the two girls to see through one of the walls of the room, otherwise there would be absolutely no fun to be had. "And she's already taken 200 points total, which is probably the most docked points in all of Hogwarts history!"<p>

Sara waved away her friend's worries and took a sip of her butterbeer. "I could give a rat's about house points. We haven't lost the house cup since Harry started here, anyway. It's a guaranteed win! We could be thousands and thousands of points behind bloody Hufflepuff and we'd still end up winning." She flicked her golden hair behind her passively. "And that bint won't dare take any more points from all the houses!"

She heard Kaelan give what she hoped was a resigned sigh. "If you say so, Sara, but it still isn't right to watch."

Sara huffed. "Fine, it looks like they're going to make up anyway. We'll just leave the door unlocked for them then so they can kiss and make up." She gathered her things and unlocked the door for the pair in the room. "This was the best idea we've ever had, Kaelan! I knew this would work!"

Giddily, she smiled at the other girl, who merely gave her a shake of the head in return.

* * *

><p>Hermione gently placed her crying boyfriend on the loveseat next to her. "Fuck," he cursed under his breath and she felt her heart give a little heave. After the first time she had witnessed him crying, she had vowed to never give him cause to cry ever again. His shoulders shook and she remembered the day that changed their relationship forever.<p>

_Hermione cursed her luck at having been partnered with Seamus Finnigan of all people in Potions that day. Only a fool would think that any potion within arm's reach of the Irish boy would escape unscathed. She, Hermione thought with ire as she scraped some yellow goo off of her arm, was a fool indeed. Despite her reluctance to use the second floor girls' lavatory because of Moaning Mrytle, it was indeed the more practical choice. It was bad enough that she was nastying up the halls with the goo that wouldn't stop seeping from her pores!_

_ She entered the lavatory, ignoring the soft sobbing she heard emanating from the furthest stalls. Myrtle was _such _a drama queen! However, not wanting to alert the ghost to her presence, she bit back her groan of disgust as she assessed her appearance in the mirror. Hermione was the last girl to be worried over her looks, but Merlin, she looked ghastly! Bright yellow goo coated her mane and dripped down to the rest of her. Ugh. _

_ She cast a nonverbal _tergeo _and waited silently to see what would happen. Sure enough, a small dot of yellow squeezed itself out of a pore on her cheek. With a grimace she aimed her wand carefully at the dot and cast again. Thankfully she stayed clean this time. She turned, raising her robes every so often to make sure she didn't miss a spot. Satisfied with her appearance, she raised a hand to flatten her hair when she heard the stall door creak as it opened. She turned and met the red-rimmed grey eyes she would inevitably fall in love with._

_ As it was, they were not yet in love and so, in place of love, Hermione instead felt fear at having caught the Malfoy scion crying, and curiosity as to the cause. _

_ "…Mudblood." He whispered. She hardly batted a lash at the derogatory name. He stalked towards her and Hermione found herself pressing back into the sinks. He grabbed her around the neck and sneered at her. "You will not tell anyone you saw me, have you got that?"_

_ They held their eye contact long enough for Hermione's fear of him to ebb. There was no anger in his eyes; only fear and sadness. Forgetting herself, she reached up and placed a gentle hand on his cheek and used the pad of her thumb to wipe away a tear that had gone unnoticed. His eyes closed and he leaned into the touch, hungry for the contact. His grip on her neck slackened. _

_ "I won't tell anyone, Malfoy." She whispered hoarsely. She dropped her hand from his cheek and he let out a shuddering moan at the loss of her warmth. Before she could think, he grabbed her hand and held it to his cheek, his eyes still closed._

_ Tears continued to stream down his cheeks. "My father was killed, Hermione. Killed. And to mourn him would be considered traitorous to the Light. To mourn him would condemn me. They all relish in his death; his and the Dark Lord's. They are thrilled." His eyes opened here and Hermione forgot to breathe. She had never been so close to him before and his pale grey eyes were intense as they met her brown ones. "Should I be happy that I've lost my hero? I will not feign ignorance and claim my father was a good man. Nor will I stand by his decisions; those were not ones I would have made. But he is my hero. He died for his beliefs, as misguided as they were. He died trying to protect his family. Tell me he is not worth mourning!_

_ "I've learned many things during the war. I've learned many things watching you. But none of the things I've learned justify his death. None of my little epiphanies come close to filling the void my father left in my heart when he was killed. So why can't I be allowed to mourn my father?" He was crying in earnest now, his body wracking with sobs. "Why?"_

_ Hermione wrapped her arms around his head, pushing him into her shoulders. He leaned into her and she, unable to fully support his weight, slowly lowered them to the floor. "Shh, you're okay. You're okay." Hermione whispered it fiercely into his blond hair, unable to fight back tears of her own. "You're okay."_

_ Hermione didn't know how long they had stayed there, underneath the sinks of the girls' lavatory, and she couldn't have cared less. She missed two classes that day and she had a paper to write, but her mind was focused entirely on the haunted boy in her arms who just wanted to mourn his hero._

_ She never wanted him to feel this way ever again._

Hermione worried at her lip, torn between holding the man she loved and remembering their circumstances. To hold him would complicate matters. To do otherwise would break her heart. His shoulders continued to shake.

She had tried to be unselfish about his engagement to Pansy. She thought about the widowed Narcissa Malfoy, who was desperately trying to honor a wish the late Lucius Malfoy had of joining their son with the Parkinson girl. She thought about Pansy, whose world fell apart at Voldemort's demise and knew no other lifestyle than that of immaculate, pureblooded wealth.

She thought about herself, her strength, her self-reliance, and how life always moves on.

Draco was the love of her life. She loved him because he was perfect, but also because he was not. She loved him because he had a terrible superiority complex, he was a narcissist, and because he was an intelligent and capable wizard. She loved him because he loved her with a passion and he knew just what he wanted out of life. She loved him because they clashed so much and yet molded together so perfectly they were practically made for each other.

But nothing that good could ever last.

Draco's broken voice broke through her thoughts. "I just want you to understand that I love you so much, with every fiber of my being, with every inch of my soul. I would never betray you!"

Tears welled up in Hermione's eyes and she couldn't find it in her to breathe. This wasn't how she wanted to handle things. She fought back her tears and squashed her urge to wrap herself around him. "I know." She whispered, her voice betraying her emotions.

"I've been doing all that I can to break this fucking engagement, Mine, I swear to you! I don't love Pansy. I could never love Pansy! Not when I'm so fucking devoted to you!" He turned to face her and Hermione broke. Her composure completely left her as she crumbled into his arms. "I realized something today, Hermione. Something I don't think I'd ever have seen myself thinking in a million years." She made no move to interrupt him. "Hermione, I could live without it all as long as I have you. I would give up everything I own, everything that is entitled to me, just to be with you. I would be content to live in some Weasley shack for the rest of my existence as long as that shack also housed you.

"Sod my fortune, Hermione, sod my family and my bloody legacy and sod my blood; I have everything in this fucked up world as long as I have you. Mine, you're everything. You are and always will be mine; there's no replacing you." Draco was breathing heavily, the force of his tears and his speech catching up with him. She cried even harder.

He had changed so much from the git she punched in their third year. The thought of him forsaking his mother and leaving behind his life of luxury for her destroyed her. He shouldn't have to choose between the two. Hermione remembered her encounter with Pansy and closed her eyes, her heart breaking at the thought. But she had to protect her Draco, who wouldn't last a day in the real world depending only on himself and her devotion for comfort. His family name was tarnished by the crimes of his father and if he shunned his fortune for her, she doubted anyone would be willing to hire a former Death Eater.

Her decision was painfully clear.

She pushed away from him and wiped away her tears. He was confused, she could feel it radiating from his body as she stood and looked down at him. "I don't love you anymore, Malfoy." She breathed. He sat and stared up at her in dumb shock, his pale grey eyes rimmed with red much like they were when she first encountered him that day in their 6th year. Her heart lurched to know she had been the cause of his pain when she so ardently wanted to put a stop to them.

She turned on her heel and headed for the door. "Let me out." She ground out. She turned the knob and it opened smoothly for her. She paused and looked back at the boy she loved so much sobbing into the floor. His hand was gripping a handful of carpet and his face was obscured by the skirting of the loveseat. She spotted her wand on a shelf near the door and levitated his to rest near his hand.

"I'm sorry, Draco." She whispered as she shut the door behind her.


	6. Chapter 6: Nineteen Years Later

**The Arrangement**

**Chapter 6: Nineteen Years Later**

* * *

><p>Draco Malfoy felt his whole body stiffen the moment he spotted the familiar brown hair in the crowd. He'd recognize her anywhere. Beside him, his wife Astoria was smoothing their Scorpius' hair nervously, unwilling to let him go off to Hogwarts just yet. His thoughts strayed to the muggle-born witch as she ushered before her a small red-headed girl towards the front of the train. Trailing behind her, Ron Weasley was admiring some black thing wrapped around a grinning Harry Potter's wrist.<p>

"Oh Draco, I'll be back in a second; I need to pop over to the loo for a bit." Astoria gave her son a pointed look. "Don't you dare wander off, Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy, you hear me?" When the blond boy nodded his understanding, she pushed him closer to his father and left. Scorpius fiddled with his new wand and tapped it on his trunk several times impatiently. The Hogwarts Express was not set to leave for another half hour and his father wasn't paying him any attention.

Draco barely registered what was happening around him as he took in the beautiful sight of Hermione's smile. It was at something her daughter had said, but it nonetheless took his breath away. He had forgotten in all their years apart that her smile had that effect on him. She was just as breathtaking as he remembered.

Their time trapped in the Valentine room was the last they had spoken. Heartbroken over Hermione and unable to be around her without falling apart, he had resigned from the Head Boy position and returned to his old Slytherin dorm for the remainder of the year. That idiot Cormac was promoted in his place. Draco stayed mostly to himself the rest of the year, completely ignoring Pansy and becoming the shell of the man he used to be. Her advances refused by Draco, she sought comfort in the arms of Blaise Zabini and was caught by the Lady Zabini a week after they left Hogwarts, who of course told Narcissa Malfoy. The Parkinson-Malfoy engagement was called off that same day.

After leaving Hogwarts with average grades and lacking the zest for life he once possessed, Draco had retreated into the Manor, refusing to see anyone but his mother. It was during one of his mother's weekly teas with her society ladies that he became reacquainted with her: Astoria Greengrass. It took years before he succumbed to her charms and after a few months of dating, they married. Draco had easily fallen back in to the lifestyle he enjoyed prior to his heartbreak at the hands of Hermione Granger, but never really managed to fill the void she left in his heart. Astoria was an amazing witch, he knew that, but she was no Hermione.

He couldn't hate Hermione for not loving him. He had been weak when it came to her; crying when he could not earn her affections back and threatening to plunge them into poverty often. Hermione needed a man, an equal, and he had not been that man nearing the end of their relationship. Draco gave a snort. But he was certainly more man than that blasted ugly Weasley that was for sure.

Draco watched as said Ugly Weasley kissed her on the cheek and left with Harry to greet their old friends across the platform. He recognized the woman next to Hermione as the She-Weasel and grinned, recalling the name he had called her during their Hogwarts years. He watched as she leaned over to Hermione and said something to her, taking her son in one hand and Hermione's daughter in the other and led them towards the train to load their things. Hermione picked up a little red-headed boy that bore an uncanny resemblance to Ron and turned in Draco's direction. He paled considerably when their eyes met.

He didn't know what to do. Though he was as handsome as ever and yes, he was wearing his finest robes that day; he couldn't help but feel insecure under her scrutiny. Merlin, she was exquisite.

"Who's that, Father?" Scorpius asked curiously, tip-toeing to get a better look.

Draco put a hand on his son's shoulder, his eyes never leaving the brown orbs of his first love. She sent him an uncertain smile and a small wave with her free hand. He gave her a nod in return. "Just an old friend, Son." He turned his focus back on his son and began to adjust the boy's robes. "Do I need to remind you of anything or give any speeches, or has your mother taken care of all that?"

"Mother's taken care of everything, Father, don't worry." His son gave him a smirk worthy of the Malfoy name and Draco cuffed his chin playfully.

Astoria reappeared at his side at that moment and began to fix her son's robes nervously. "Oh Merlin, I don't think I'm ready to send you off just yet!" She cried, throwing her arms around her only son.

Draco smiled at the sight of his blubbering wife and his mortified son. He was the luckiest man in the world to have them. Around him, parents began to load their children on to the train. He pulled out his old pocket watch to check the time and ran his thumb along the familiar emeralds along the face. He couldn't hold back his smile.

"Honestly Draco, I wish you'd use the pocket watch I bought you for your birthday last year. That dirty thing's so old I'm surprised it still functions!" Astoria scoffed at his pocket watch as she led their son toward the train.

Draco took a second to admire his beloved pocket watch. Using another was simply out of the question. "It was and always will be mine, Astoria. There's no replacing it." He called after her. Laughing, he pushed his son's things after his wife and son, not knowing that across the platform, a certain brown-haired witch's vision blurred with tears at the sight of the silver pocket watch in the hands of the man who will forever be in possession of her heart.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Well, there you have it: the end of The Arrangement. I'm sorry it took ages for me to finally get this up! University does a hell of a job keeping a girl busy. Thank you to everyone who reviewed and added this story to their favorites! I wish I could have had an ending where Draco and Hermione end up together for you all, but I assure you that they are very much happy with their lives as they are.**


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